


Preliminary Findings

by Astoria Gracewell (arh581958)



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Episode: Bad Blood, M/M, Magnus' POV, TV Episode, UST, Unapologetic dirty thoughts, Work-out, but then Magnus started having feelings, half-naked alec, it was supposed to be PWP, ogle him like a pro, s01e08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 12:58:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6154512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arh581958/pseuds/Astoria%20Gracewell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remember that scene in episode 8? The one where Alec was training half-naked with the punchin bag and Magnus came in with the Forsaken autopsy reports? Yes, well... So does Magnus and this is exactly what went through his head. </p><p>(Or: the one where Alec trains and Magnus gets an eyeful)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Preliminary Findings

**Author's Note:**

> Follows from Season 1 Episode 8 "Bad Blood", the _[Magnus Visits Alec](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WYxVJ__guqE)_ Scene.
> 
> Beta-read by awesome Nerdling_Queen

Magnus Bane hated working for the Nephilim. Particularly because they treated him like he was worse than dirt and barked out orders like he was beneath them. A typical work day for him would include anywhere from forging Ivy League diplomas, to curing excessive werewolf follicles in unwanted places, to dispelling a fairy jinx done in the heat of a lover’s quarrel. It  _ did not _ include summoning a memory demon, healing a wolf  _ free of charge _ , or doing pathology tests on a Forsaken. 

And, it most certainly did not include gawking at a sweaty, half-naked, drop-dead gorgeous Shadowhunter heir with abs that looked like they were sculpted from the angels of heaven or, the lowest extent, Michelangelo who had shared his passion for appreciating the beauty of the human body. 

Damn, he was going to hell for popping a hardie in the middle of a fake Church. Or wait, he was half-demon, he already was going to hell if he managed to die, oh well. 

“Oh, hello,  _ Alexander _ ,” he whispered to himself as he ogled the sex-god reincarnate. Those sex-cuts should be blasphemous.  His eyes followed a path from Alec’s sweat-damp nape, where his raven hair clung, to the long lean line of his spine. Magnus could spend all day watching knob after knob flex underneath Alec’s skin. It made his mouth water at the thought alone. 

Meanwhile, Alec pounded against the sand bag unaware of his audience. 

Magnus felt like a stalker by not announcing his presence. But how could he deny himself the small sinful selfishness to merely  _ watch _ but not touch the panes of glorious Shadowhunter skin that was covered in dark runes, moving with every powerful punch on the reinforced leather. He wondered what it would be like to have those same muscle flex below him—on his gigantic king-sized bed, darkening his canary-yellow sheets with every drop of sweat. 

For a while, only the rhythmic sounds of fist against leather echoed in the room. Like everything he did, Alec attacked the bag with an intensity that captivated Magnus. He concentrated on the punching bag like he had a personal vendetta against it. His fists pounded on the thing with equal parts strength and aim, glove-covered knuckles hitting the precise same spot over and over again. Discoloration was already evident. 

The High Warlock of Brooklyn would stay all day, the rest of his paying clients could wait, if only he was allowed a few more minutes gazing upon Alec Lightwood’s amazing body. But, alas, he too had his responsibilities that he needed to keep. 

That, and he wanted to catch a glimpse of the front-side before Alec discovered his creepy behavior. He did not want this particular Shadowhunter to have a bad opinion of him. So he did what he had to do. He rounded his arms and prepared to  _ strut _ his handsome ass as he walked onto the platform. 

And  _ dah-yum,  _ that was a yummy piece of  _ ahem _ . 

If Magnus thought that Alec was gorgeous from the back, the view from the front was no less spectacular. Rather, if anything, the side-frontal of Alec slamming his fist against the bag gave Magnus visuals for a whole ‘nother type of slamming. Because, yes, he was a very active warlock, thank you very much. 

However, the thing that caught his attention the most was surprising not the endless panes of blessed abs that were carved by the angels and molded with divine intervention. He could sing songs of praises all his days. 

(There truly is a God, he thought to himself.) 

No, it was not the two, four,  _ oh _ , six-pack that captivated him. It was those endless pools of stunning blue eyes that stole his breath away. It was like staring into the bright blue ocean which blended perfectly with the horizon into a perfect canvass of unending blue. 

“Magnus?” His own name sounded like it came from a distance instead of four torturous feet away. It dragged him, kicking and screaming, from the nirvana in his fantasies. 

“Okay, I’m back,” he managed to say somewhat shakily. 

Alec looked uncomfortable under his gaze. Even if Alec had noticed his embarrassing two-minute long stare, he said nothing. He merely walked across the platform with a shrug. 

Magnus could swear that he felt the eye-roll as Alec passed by but his brain was too overloaded with the  _ whiff _ of sweat, leather and Alec rolling into one dizzying scent. It gave him a warm buzzing feeling that churned from his gut to his—stop, he really needed to stop or else he’ll definitely pop a stiffy and that would be highly inappropriate to be horny like a seventeen year-old teen in front of all this hunkiness.

Then, all of a sudden, all that glorious skin was being hidden from him by a traitorous black shirt. 

“Oh, you don’t have to get dressed up for me,” he said without thinking. Thankfully, his brain-to-mouth filtered had recovered enough and he managed to hold the ‘I would rather you undress me, really’ before he made an even bigger fool of himself. 

Alec seemed intent of covering up. 

“Fine,” he whined, throat dry like the Savanna, scratchy like sandpaper. “But I like what I saw.” 

Don’t button up. Don’t button up. Don’t button up.

Alec stopped with the front of his shirt undone. It barely covered his impressive man-rack.  Magnus stole a peek and, yes, the shirt  _ did in fact _ frame Alec’s dark brown nipples. It was million times hotter than where it was a free-for-all eye-buffet. Now, there was something extraordinarily seductive about them being half-hidden by the dark fabric. 

“I have the preliminary autopsy findings,” He tried to say breathily, and failing. He sounded, to his ears, like a hoarse horse. He presented the crimson folder to Alec. The younger boy did not seem to mind his utter failure at seduction. Rather, Alec appeared befuddled by his actions. 

“Why are you giving this to me? You should go to the head of the Institute.”

“And it is,” Magnus assured. He knew from the moment he saw this seemingly fearless, headstrong, but secretly shy leader that Alec would one day be the head of the New York Institute. The Shadowhunter was trained to do so. Yet, something in Alec’s eyes told Magnus an entirely different story. 

“I’m not,” Alec stammered, “and I never will be.” 

‘Oh, Alexander,’ thought Magnus. He could see the conflict reflected in those normally unwavering eyes. They were uncertain now, filled with betrayal, and hurt, and sadness which Magnus wanted to kiss away. He never wanted to see that conflicted expression on Alec’s eyes again. 

“Magnus it’s like—” Alec let out a heavy sigh, “—it’s been a lie. Everything I’ve ever known, it’s—”

“It’s not what you thought,” Magnus finished the thought for him. He understood that sentiment. He had been there before, deep in the recess of his memory where he dared not go, but he understood nonetheless. 

“I’ve done everything for my parents,” Alec told him solemnly, “for the Clave—I’ve—I’ve done everything that they’ve a-asked-” 

And Magnus could not take one more sentence of Alec like this.

“Maybe you should start living for yourself,” he said, searching Alec’s eyes. “Do what’s in your heart.”

Emotion after emotion flittered through them in a fast-paced haze, like Alec himself did not know which emotion to feel at that very moment. That too, Magnus understood. There were times where he needed to keep his emotions at bay, where he needed his heart to be protected. But now, he was laying all that on the line for this one Shadowhunter. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Alec whispered like it was a confession, “I think you’re right.” and his smile lit up the entire room.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you have a prompt or an idea, you can [**INSPIRE ME**](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/submit) on tumblr.
> 
> Because I took a 2-week vacation on writing, I think that another post for today is appropriate! Not sure if this has been done... sorry!


End file.
